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880 pages, Paperback
First published June 1, 1925
While an authour is yet living we estimate his powers by his worst performance, and when he is dead we rate them by his best.
bio'grapher. A writer of lives; a relator not of the history of nations, but of the actions of particular persons
fla'tter. To soothe with praises; to please with blandishments; to gratify with servile obsequiousness; to gain by false compliments.
All joy or sorrow for the happiness or calamities of others is produced by an act of the imagination, that realizes the event however fictitious, or approximates it however remote, by placing us, for a time, in the condition of him whose fortune we contemplate; so that we feel, while the deception lasts, whatever motions would be excited by the same good or evil happening to ourselves.
cri'tick. (1) A man skilled in the art of judging of literature; a man able to distinguish the faults and beauties of writing. (2) A censurer; a man apt to find fault.
lipla’bour. Action of the lips without concurrence of the mind; words without sentiments.
bo'okish. Given to books; acquainted only with books. It is generally used contemptuously.
bethu'mp. To beat; to lay blows upon: a ludicrous word.
lexico’grapher. A writer of dictionaries; a harmless drudge, that busies himself in tracing the original, and detailing the signification of words.
pu’rist. One superstitiously nice in the use of words.
dull. (8) Not exhilarating; not delightful; as, to make dictionaries is dull work.
stulti'loquence. Foolish talk.
When the desultory levity of youth has settled into regularity, it is soon succeeded by pride ashamed to yield, or obstinacy delighting to contend.
This lax and lawless versification so much concealed the deficiencies of the barren and flattered the laziness of the idle that it immediately overspread our books of poetry.
April 13, 1775. Maundy Thursday. Of the use of time or my commendation of myself I thought no more, but lost life in restless nights and broken days, till this week awaked my attention.
This year has passed with very little improvement, perhaps with diminution of knowledge. Much time I have not left. Infirmities oppress me. But much remains to be done. I hope to rise at eight or sooner in the morning.